


The New King

by DE600



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Fingering, Breeding Kink, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Crying, Death Threats, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Guilt, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reproductive Coercion, Sexual Coercion, Size Kink, Small Penis, Small penis shaming, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, corrective rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DE600/pseuds/DE600
Summary: Hank overthrows the king of his land and decides that the Prince Connor makes a worthy celebratory reward for him and his men.
Relationships: AP700 Android(s)/Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson/Connor, Original Chloe | RT600/Connor
Comments: 30
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy late activation day Connor!   
> I did the Prince fucking thing that I mentioned in sparky bc it gave me wap and I knocked half of this out within 24 hours because apparently planning makes writing easier? Idk don't quote me on that. 
> 
> Things you should know, this mentions that Hank's gonna have ppl executed, there's mentioned death. This is rape, Hank's taking advantage of Connor's desire to live and coarcing him into having sex with him. Connor's kinda into it, but Hank doesn't respect his boundaries at any point and goes out of his way to make Connor uncomfortable, this includes the exhibition/unconsensual voyeurism tag and everything having to do with Gavin. Connor still becomes erect, still orgasms, feels pretty guilty about liking it.

The castle invasion was going smoothly. Hank could smell the bonfires outside in the yards. He could hear the cries of the royal court as they were bound and tossed aside. The guards had already been taken care of, his men were masters of combat and his archers had made their jobs easy, destroying the small fleet that had protected the gates and the doors. A few members of the castle staff had been his men on the inside and they were showing the rest of his crew where the best jewels were.

Hank had slain a few guardsmen himself and his weapon dripped their lifeblood, and his clothes were stained with it. It was a shame really, he would have liked to bring such fine warriors into the fold, they could have served under his new regime.

Instead they would be joined in death by the royal family when they were slain in front of the people they had starved and sent to war and taxed until they were desolate.

Hank could picture it clearly, reading out their crimes against the kingdom and reveling in their execution. But his little daydream was interrupted by his most reliable and most hated followers, Gavin Reed. Who was supposed to be rounding up the castle inhabitants.

"Anderson! We have secured the king and queen and their court but we've yet to find the Prince. Is it possible he isn't in the castle? I knew I didn't trust your informant." Reed scowled in anger, he rarely trusted anything at all.

"My informant got us all in the castle tonight and assisted in turning the staff to our side. The information you're lacking is the knowledge of the secret passages in this castle, I have a notion a to where he might be hiding. You'll let the men report to you while I hunt down our royal highness myself." Hank ordered, turning away and starting down the passageways.

Down long halls and staircases, Hank made his way to the library, where he knew an entrance to a hidden passageway was. He'd ordered that it not be touched, filled with too much knowledge that must be perseved for the kingdom's people. When he arrived he was alone in the room but for a flickering fireplace that someone had unsuccessfully tried to put out. As well as a grey and blue cloak lying on the floor that had to belong to someone of the court. Upon closer inspection, it had to belong to the royal family, the insignia was their coat of arms. Hank had a sneaking suspicion that it belonged to their currently missing prince.

Hank knew the prince was beautiful, if not being spoken about for his wit, it was his beauty. An almost frail looking young man, willowy and pale, but somehow possessing hidden strength. He was rumoured to be a gifted archer. It was said that his hair was as soft as down, and his dark eyes could see your secrets.

Hank didn't believe in that type of magic, preferring to think the prince was simply an observant man like himself. Perhaps an observant man with a force of observant spies at his behest. Spies that hadn't sussed out that there were servents whose loyalty lay with traitors like Henry Anderson among them. Who weren't fast enough to save the king and queen. And probably not fast enough to save the prince.

There. Behind that bust was the entrance. Hank moved it aside. Squeezed through the crack in the wall until it opened into a larger cavern. Hank knelt in the dust to see recent tracks. Just one set of footprints. The hunt was on.

The passageway was sloped up, more of a climb in some places where Hank could see the rock and dirt had been disturbed. Hank hadn't even been walking for fifteen minutes when he peeked around the corner to see a very stressed and well dressed young man pressing his ear to a hatch above his head, listening to the raid of his castle.

"Hello, your highness."

Prince Connor snapped to attention, pulled the dagger from his belt and charged the intruder. Hank dodged and the prince stumbled but stayed on his feet, turning with the intention of thrusting his blade again. But the intruder caught him mid turn, when he was still unbalanced and shoved him back into the wall. The prince raised his knife once more, attempting to use the wall as a spring board to throw himself at his attacker, but Hank knocked his arm aside with his armour plated forearm, the force throwing the dagger away into the darkness.

Hank grabbed Prince Connor by the front of his tunic and picked him off his feet, holding on the wall. The prince still struggled against Hank's hold. Hank thought it was admirable that the prince had learned to fight, not that it did him much good against the seasoned warrior. He was happy he hadn't needed to strike his face, Connor was just as beautiful as the tales said he was, even as he scowled in anger and panted in fear.

"Let me go! Heathen!" Connor hissed through his teeth, not wanting to draw more attention to himself. If his castle wasn't currently under siege he'd call for his guards to save him but he knew they were either slaughtered, captured, or fighting for their lives. That or traitors. It was why he'd attempted his escape alone, he didn't know who to trust, he didn't want to be turned in. It seemed unless he broke free from this giant's grip he was captured anyways.

If not covered in the blood of Connor's own forces, the prince might have thought him handsome. Long, thick, silver hair, loose if not for the few small braids decorating his head. Striking blue eyes that pierced Connor and looked at him like prey. A long, strong face partially obscured, artfully, by a trimmed beard.

The size of this man made him quiver, perhaps in fear but the prince knew better, he knew the kind of men he wished he could call up to his bedchambers, broad and powerful. His armor and leathers only serving to make him appear larger than life. The hands keeping him pinned could likely wrap around Connor's waist completely. Connor's heart pounded in all kinds of fear of what this man could do to him.

"Trying to escape, your highness? There were many ways you could have turned in your efforts to flee, why this hatch, hmm? Where's it lead? Must still be under the castle somehow?" Hank mused, letting his hot breath span over the pretty prince's face.

That pink blush kept rising in his pale skin, likely from the exertion, but Hank was surprised the look in his eyes, glancing away as if ashamed. Ashamed at being caught? There'd been other rumours, that the Prince wasn't seeking a bride, turning them away even.

The little darling couldn't seem to make up his mind, his face flickering through rage and fear and disgust, but also shame and embarrassment. Such an intelligent young man must have quite the brain to pick. Maybe it would be worth keeping him alive and at Hank's side. A witty little pet, filled with knowledge that would help Hank thrive as a new leader.

"Well? I'm waiting." He said, sternly.

He wouldn't be in any more danger if he complied, Connor thought, it might even ensure some of his safety if he did as he was asked.

"I was seeing if your thieves had left my throne room yet."

Hank smirked, let the Prince down only to shove him into the wall. Hank bound the thin hands with a bit of cloth. He lifted the hatch himself, calling out to his men that he'd found the little crown Prince himself and listened to the cheers. Hank pushed his highness up the hatch first, letting his men secure him before climbing up.

"Well if it isn't his royal highness, I'd say your reign is ending, sire. Definitively." Reed mocked, having put Connor on his knees, leering at the prince

He was trying to pull away in clear disgust. Not the same response he'd given Hank. Interesting. He seemed largely more upset surrounded by Hank's jeering men then he did alone with the man himself. Or maybe Reed was just disgusting.

"Oh, Anderson." Reed said, making Connor jerk his head in Hank's direction, he had a reputation after all, "Should I throw him with the rest?"

"No. I think I've got better plans for the likes of him." Hank said consideringly, tilting Connor's head up with a finger under his chin.

"Bet you fucking do." Reed said under his breath.

Hank threw a scowl his way and picked the prince up by his shirt collar, dragging him to his unsteady feet.

"You're Henry Anderson. You were one of my father's commanding officers in the war. You were legendary, why do you besmirch your honor detroying his reign."  
Connor said, almost in disbelief.

"That war did not give me my honor, boy. And you were just a boy when it happened, eating from your silver spoon. You didn't see the horror it wrecked upon our land, the way it hurt our families. But you will. I think I'll have many a use for you yet. I reign now. How would you like to have a place in my regime? As my pet? Will you be my little prince?' Hank spoke with a harsh tone, but softened to something sickly sweet, propositioning to Connor.

Connor didn't answer. Too afraid, or maybe too afraid to show that he was slightly interested in what that might mean. In the right circumstances, Connor would be so attracted to this man, this man who fought with honor, this large, powerful beast of a man who would defile his virginal body.

But this wasn't the right circumstance. Henry Anderson meant him harm, might kill him. Planned to kill his family and his court. Might enslave Connor, keep him just to warm his bed while he ruled what rightfully belonged to Connor and his family. His attraction was shameful, and maybe fatal. Why was he getting hard?

Hank lifted Connor by the bicep, taking Connor's silence as his answer. Most royals would have begged for their lives, or mouthed off in a bid to regain their pride. But this little prince only blushed and bit his tongue.

The walk to the throne themselves was accompanied by jeers and whispers. Some of Hank's men practically drooling in anticipation, some tried to focus on their work, someone made Hank pause, handing him a vial that Hank accepted with a laugh. But all eyes were on their leader dragging the Prince Connor to the foot his father's throne and dropping him there on his knees.

Connor was still silent but for an occasional whimper of pain. His heart pounded in his chest like drums of war, preparing him for what was to happen so he may endure. It was becoming more and more apparent what uses Anderson had for him.

Oh gods, Connor prayed, please let him send his men away, I can't be seen like this.

His cock was straining in his trousers regardless of his fear, or because of it? This wasn't going to be for his pleasure. Anderson was going to make Connor serve him like a common whore. He was so frightened he couldn't speak.

Hank had plucked the crown right off King Elijah's head, saw the betrayal in his cold, calculating eyes. He'd placed it on his own head much to the elation of his men, the cheers had risen up, chanting for their new king Henry. The battle of wills between king and soldier had ended, and Hank was the victor. It was clearly written on their faces and was present in their eyes.

Now the crown sat on the throne itself, Hank had sent an underling to bring it there. He could see the recognition in Connor's dark eyes and revealed in placing the heirloom on his head once again in front of the true blue blooded royal. He smiled.

"You won't run and fight if I untie you now, will you? You have nowhere to go, and no way to win. I know that you are an intelligent young man, Connor, you know when to comply with a stronger man's wishes." Hank's voice was like molasses.

His words just made Connor even more shamefully aroused. Yes, he knew to comply if he wanted to live but deep down he had the perverse desire to be ordered to obey. It was his birthright to rule but any time he imagined himself making love with a man, he himself was being ruled, by a man stronger than him. The kind of man who was capable of making a crown prince bend to his wishes. But now he didn't have a choice and Henry wasn't going to make love to him.

"I'll comply." Connor said simply.

Anderson smirked again, making the prince, his prince, turn so he could be untied. Connor placed his hands primly in his lap, trying to retain his dignity, but he was ushered to stand. This man was at least half a hand taller than him and it made him quiver.

"Arms up, your highness."

"Please, Anderson. I'll comply, send your men away. I'll do as you ask, just not in front of them." Connor said in a steady tone, but his voice got closer to breaking as he went on.

Hank looked out at the room, the hungry eyes on his little monarch, a few, including Reed, rubbing their groins. He gave his own erection a grope, much to the shock of the prince.

"They stay. Don't worry, all of your attention will be on me soon, sweet thing. You will think of nothing but my touch. Now strip for me."

Connor shook, but raised his tunic in compliance, exposing his slender torso and his soft belly with the most darling trail of fuzz leading from his navel down under his trousers. Hank wasted no time in touching him, squeezing the flesh and sliding his hands over soft skin and body hair.

His rosy nipples were revealed next as his shirt was pulled over his head and Hank clamped down on one of them with his teeth before sucking it between his lips and teasing it with his tongue. The prince was trying to keep his voice down but he couldn't stop the sounds from coming out as he was touched so roughly and confidently for the first time.

Hank switched sides, biting and licking while Connor panted and grinded on his captor. He moaned and shivered, this was blissful torture. Connor tried to focus on carding his hands through Henry's thick locks of silver hair to distract himself from the eyes of these heathens taking in his pleasure and humiliation.

His captor's hands slid down his lightly muscled back down into his trousers and helped at his cheeks. Connor squeaked, wrapping his arms around those broad shoulders, hanging on for dear life. Large hands massage his buttocks, spreading them, thick fingers poke gently at his tight sphicter and prod at the stretch of skin behind his testicles. The pressure made pleasure pool low in his belly.

Connor rocked his hips into the fingers and whined in loss when they were pulled away. He looked into those deep blue eyes again as his tormentor took a step back. Anderson smirked, looked at him like he was prey, a meal he intended to devour. And Connor remembered the shame in being touched here, in this room, in this way, in front of his own treacherous subjects. He wanted to cover up his skin, didn't want to be looked at. But..

"I want you nude, your highness. Strip off your clothes. Now."

"Henry-" Connor began to protest.

Hank interjected. "Call me Hank."

"What?"

"My given name is Hank, your highness, and that is the name I want to hear falling from your lips when I am inside of you."

Connor swallowed, his shaky arms tried to cover his chest. "Please. Hank. I'll do as you ask but please send your men away. Please, I can't- ah!"

Hank grabbed Connor by the waist and pulled his trousers and underthings down to his mid thigh, exposing him to the room. Connor was shocked, and felt mortified by the laugher and crude things being called out that filled his ears. They could all see his round bottom, the dark curls at his groin.

His hands went to hide his modest but very erect, dripping length from view but Hank stopped him, clutching the small wrist.

"I told you to strip. And you will strip, and expose yourself for me, and our.. little audience. You better get used to this, boy. If you want to live you will act as my whore. That means you leave that precious little prick on display." Hank whispered menacingly, gaze boring into Connor's wide eyed stare.

Hank released him, and began removing his armour, Connor stood in shock, watching him expose the plainclothes underneath that he wore for fighting. Connor was still trying to accept that this man was about to use his prince for his pleasure, that Connor was apart of his spoils. He wished his cock would go down but the fear and the shame kept him erect and ready somehow.

"Get on with it, boy." Hank said almost offhandidly.

Hank stooped to pick up the vial of what must be oil so he could penetrate Connor without pain. Set the bottle between his leg and the arm of Connor's father's throne while he opened the lacing of his own trousers to reveal a very large cock still hidden by his smallclothes, bulging under the fabric. He poured a little oil on his finger while Connor began to strip awkwardly.

He pulled his boots off one by one while standing on one leg, he could hear the snickers of the evil men that just wouldn't leave him be. Connor blushed and took a deep breath, and bent over to push his pants down off his long athletic legs. He bit his lip because he knew his ass was exposed. Some of those men were touching themselves, Connor was sure of it. It made him want to cry, but he had a new master to serve and he still had his pride.

Now, fully nude, he straightened his back and raised his chin, taking deep breaths, and strode to the throne. The one that he himself was supposed to inhabit one day. His ancestors had sat on that throne and ruled and now some soldier, not of royal blood, had taken it by spilling royal blood. And now, Prince Connor Kamski was giving him sex, commiting sodomy with a commoner. Gods, please take away his shameful, painful erection. Connor was so ashamed, but his body just kept responding to this horrid beast of a man and the games he was playing.

Connor stood between Hank's spread legs and took him in. He almost made Connor's cock twitch more now than when he had his armour on.

Connor could see the defined muscles from years of labor, the clothes he was wearing soaked with sweat and clinging to his form. His chest hair just as silver as the hair on his head, which was almost as silver as the crown sitting on top of it all.

Connor made a point to himself that he wouldn't freely refer to this man as his king, he was a lot of things to Connor right now, but not that. Not while wearing his father's jewels.

"Come here, boy. Don't dawdle."

Connor hesitated about how to sit on Hank's lap just a second too long. Hank scowled at being made to wait so long to get the prince in his lap and pulled him into it sideways, not caring if the arms of the throne were uncomfortable for the prince. Just needing access to the boy's hole.

Connor cried out he as pulled and pushed and maneuvered into such an awkward position. Was Anderson going to strike him? No, he was spreading his cheeks once more, but this time focusing on his dry pucker until it was moist with oil. Connor whined while his rim was rubbed thoroughly.

"Shhh, shh, easy now, open up for me that's it." Hank whispered.

A thick finger slid in his hole, it was so uncomfortable, his body wanted to close the opening back up, the more Hank pulled the finger in and out the more he sensitive he became and the more he wanted it out. He squirmed on Hank's lap until he was struck for being disobedient, like a child.

"Stop that. Be patient. I don't want to tear you when I take you. I don't like ruined toys." Hank's voice only got darker the more he played with Connor's body.

I'm not a toy, Connor thought just before opening his mouth wide in a moan as Hank pushed two fingers inside of him, pressing them deep. It almost felt good, with less discomfort than before, wait, now it really felt good. Connor even rocked his hips a little back into the thrusts Hank was now giving him. Moaning shamefully and accidentally making eye contact with the short man with the nose scar that he thought might be Anderson's second in command.

Connor whimpered, he was losing feeling in his limbs from the position he was in, slowly bruising in other places, and he didn't like being watched like this.

"Oh? Your highness? Look at me, ah?" His voice was inherently mocking, he hadn't pulled himself out of his pants yet but was sporting a visible hard on.

"Back off, Gavin, he's mine." Hank snapped with rough thrust of his fingers that made Connor whine. He was dedicated to opening the prince up to be taken and didn't want distractions.

"Did you notice how pretty his mouth is? The tales of his beauty neglected to mention how nicely his lips might suckle on a-"

Hank interrupted. "You don't get to have his mouth before I do, Reed."

"It might do well to train him to service us all now before he becomes attached to you alone. Picture it, Hank, you between his legs, me in his throat? He'd learn his place very nicely." This Gavin Reed was persuasive, and crude.

Connor prayed to every god and saint he could think of that he wouldn't be forced to pleasure this crude man. That he wouldn't have to pleasure two men, two invaders, on the floor in his own throne room, in front of this handful of traitors stroking themselves to his desecration. If this absolutely had to happen, he wished it was alone, in his own bedchambers, decided like an arranged marriage or a political deal. Not taken, stolen like jewels and riches just because he could.

But Hank just chuckled. Amused. Considering the prospect of the prince gagging on a prick while his hole was fucked. He could still feel how hard the boy was, like the worse Hank treated him, the more desperate he got for it. The boy would probably hate him, but he didn't need to love Hank. Just needed to obey.

"I'll let him warm to the idea first. You drive a hard bargain." Hank turned his attention to the boy in his lap. "Why don't you suckle on my fingers for a moment, your highness? Get a taste for it?"

Connor shook his head, closing his mouth against the prodding fingers of Hank's free hand. He didn't want it!

But his captor had been exploring his inner walls and now took the opportunity to find his prostate, tapped it, making Connor groan through his teeth. Hank pulled out for a moment, and Connor thought he might be safe, but Hank's fingers dived right back in his loosening rim, slicked with even more oil, and rubbed directly on the prince's hidden little sweet spot.

Connor's mouth fell open in a shout, and a groan poured out, only to be strangled by the rough fingers entering his mouth. His body thrashed and flexed. He couldn't stop the strangled sounds of lust from making their way out of him, even with the fingertips stroking his tongue.

Hank let up on that precious little spot, he'd be hitting with his cock soon enough. He thrusted gently now instead, letting the prince calm a little. Encouraged him to sweetly suck as if Hank's hands were a treat.

The boy was twitching and limp. Having his ass played with must be taking the energy out of him. The way he breathed through his nose it almost sounded like he was crying a little. Hank was sure his men enjoyed that, making a conquest cry.

But Hank couldn't just play forever, his cock was aching and pinned against the prince's stomach. Connor's ass had relaxed considerably but Hank made sure to scissor his fingers and pull at the puffy little rim. Just about open enough to stretch around his girth. Hank removed his fingers from those pretty fuckholes, wiping them on the prince's skin.

"Get up, your highness, on your feet." Hank said kindly.

Connor slid off the throne awkwardly, looking not unlike a baby deer, long limbed and shaking, his knees almost buckled inward and he was panting. God, he felt so empty, it ached to be penetrated but it was so odd to not have something in him now. He supposed Anderson would be recitifying that. He leaned on the arm of his throne, stumbling back to his new master.

Hank stood when Connor approached and Connor had to once again be reminded of what a large man he was. His mind felt so fuzzy but he still shivered in fear.

"Kiss me." Hank didn't leave any room for disobedience in his tone.

The prince leaned on the invader, tilting his head up and pressed his lips to Hank's, just tall enough to reach without getting lost in his beard. Hank wasn't kissing him back and Connor realised this was an act of submission. Like dogs and wolves licked their leader's mouths, Connor kissed unmoving lips.

Begging for the attention of the man who was humiliating him, who was about to defile him. Anderson was about to commit an act of sodomy with the prince, who was not entirly acting of his own will, complying to preserve his own life. But naturally perverse in his desire for men and his arousal at his own shame.

Connor could feel all the eyes on him, on his naked body. As he pressed his lips and body onto this man, grinded his erection into a clothed thigh. Because of course this man could wear clothing while the prince degraded himself in the buff in front of men who would kill him, but were happy to masturbate to this. Men who would gladly take his hole for their own pleasure if Anderson allowed it.

He licked Hank's lips, desperate for some attention to distract him from all the stares and to sooth his worries by giving him pleasure in equal measure. What Connor wouldn't give for this man to lick his nipples again, he tried to stimulate them by rubbing on his shirt. Moaned at the little bit of friction that was amplified by the lewd humping he was also doing in tandem.

Hank wrapped his hand in Connor's hair and pulled, shoving his own tongue into the prince's mouth and stilling all the filthy rubbing he was doing. If Hank didn't know better he'd think the Prince really was a whore, the way he wordlessly begged for cock to fill him up. He'd earned it. Hank stepped back, pushed his pants down, revealing the large cock that matched his tall and broad stature, nestled in gray curls, and sat wide legged on the throne.

"Come sit, Prince Connor. Time to perform your duties." Hank laughed to himself, mocking this shaking little monarch was just too enjoyable.

Hank helped Connor into his lap, shushing him as he was panting and whimpering in fear. He supposed it didn't make a difference if the prince passed out from hyperventilating, he'd still fuck him passed out on the floor.

"That's it. Just like that, my dear. Relax, I have faith in you, my darling." Hank whispered, cherishingly in his ear.

Connor could feel the wet cock poke at the skin between his legs, he was kneeling in Hank's lap, their chests pressed together, squatting over his cock. Connor had been told once before by a trusted friend that sitting on a man to have sex was a good and comfortable way to be deflowered. That he could ease down at his own pace and take his lover inside him.

His new master was considerate of Connor's body but not his feelings or safety. He wanted to be alone, in a bed, like he'd pictured when he'd one day have to consummate a marriage and sire an heir. Or when he'd finally get the chance to take a secret lover in a consort's chamber, with all the excitement of an affair, his status kept safe by the bonds of marriage and healthy heirs.

He'd always known he'd have to take a wife, have children and have his desires of the flesh kept secret, that he couldn't have a husband. He wondered if Anderson was going to marry him, make him officially the prince consort or if Connor would only be keeping his bed warm. Connor tried to imagine what it would be like for his hole to be this wet and open and ready all of the time for his.. King.

That thick cock was rubbing on his hole now, no lingering missing it's target, Connor's face was buried in Hank's neck so he wouldn't have to see Reed's cock that he'd finally pulled out to stroke languidly, waiting his turn to fuck the prince's face. Connor whimpered and gasped as he felt the head breach his rim. He moaned and squirmed, slipping his ass down the shaft little by little.

It was so big, it was barely in him but Connor was so streched and full already. His limbs were weak and full of static. Connor didn't even know if he felt good or bad it was just so so much. He sank a little further down so that fat mushroom head moved past his rim and rubbed his sensitive walls, all that tight muscle stretched around pure shaft.

"Deep breaths, boy. Feel so good around me, rock down on it. Let me fuck you."

Hank was Connor's anchor right now, keeping him calm when all he wanted to do was cry. This wasn't how he had envisioned taking a man inside him for the first time. Completely stripped while his partner was clothed but for his cock. In the lap of a common soldier who smelled of blood, seated on a stolen throne, with a stolen crown atop his head. How dare this filthy traitor look so handsome in his family's silver and jewels, the high back of the throne stretching above his head. Grinning with a gap in his front teeth as Connor got closer to crying the closer his ass got to Hank's lap.

With an upset moan, Connor's ass settled on Hank's powerful thighs. His breathing was uneven as he adjusted to feeling so incredibly stuffed and stretched. At some point in his descent that thick cock had started pressing on his prostate and he'd been seeing stars ever since, wiggling in overstimulation. This cock felt like it was pressing on his lungs, close to coming out of his mouth.

Connor was sobbing dryly. "Please. Please, Hank. It's so much. You're too big in me. Please please I can't take it." His whispers were barely audible over the groans that filled the room.

Hank's men had a striking view of Connor's bottom spread around their leader's cock, the shuddering muscles in his back and thighs, his bare feet and curled toes. The big hands that were now wrapping around Connor's buttocks as Hank lifted Connor up and helped ease him back down.

"Just relax for me, your highness, keep relaxed and loose, you'll feel so good soon." Hank murmured into Connor's shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin there.

Connor was overwhelmed, the slow push and pull demanding all of his attention as he tried to breath through it. Hank's cock was too big to help that he was relentlessly rubbing Connor's prostate, sending shocks through the young man that matched up with the pleasure from his cock rubbing on Hank's stomach. He tried to focus on the friction on his prick as he was lifted up and slid back down, Hank was speeding up their coupling now, not giving Connor any room to think.

Connor wanted more attention there, he decided, and tried to snake his hand between their bodies to wrap his fist around himself but it was pulled away.

"You won't orgasm until I say so. Do you understand, your highness? Hold it back until I say so." Hank said simply

He wasn't trying to come, he just wanted a little more pleasure, to deal with the pain.

"Hank, I wasn't-" Connor began, but was interrupted by a stern tone and a more aggressive pace on his ass.

"Do you understand what you're doing this for? Why you're sitting on my cock right now? Because I think you look prettier impaled on a cock than impaled on a stake to burn. You will obey me, my little prince. Or you will face the consequences. Is that clear?"

Connor was openly crying now, nodding frantically in fear, he had almost forgotten why he was having sex with a strange man right now. That this man captured him, his whole family, and all his servants that no longer belonged to him. The crown and those loyal to it were to be slaughtered. The one and only reason Connor was exempt was because this man wanted him to act as his whore. Just to fufill his needs and spill the secrets of the crown in his ear.

Connor wanted to stop, it felt so good now, but he'd been brought back to reality and he didn't want to have sex with Hank, the handsome traitorous invader, anymore. But he had no choice, this man owned him as a whore now, he would be fucked or he would be killed. Not much of a choice but Connor could stomach this. Could stomach having all his soft creamy skin on display for heathens, his genitals exposed. Would bite his tongue as Hank denied him his orgasm while driving him to it.

He could stomach all this horrid treatment because he still felt so good, his heartache couldn't compare to the ache in his sloppy hole. But Hank was pulling out of it, sitting Connor up on his knees, then helping him get his feet on the ground as his knees started to buckle.

"Why don't you lean on that table, your highness? There's something I'd like your input on." Hank stood as well, not even bothering to tuck himself away.

Connor stumbled, confused and aching, cheeks bright red in embarrassment as he avoided the eyes of Hank's men. Avoided the sight of their ruddy cockheads as they stroked and called out to Connor. Talking about how nice he would look and feel on their cocks. God. Connor didn't want to be a common whore, he could barely manage the idea of bring Hank's personal whore.

He arrived at the table, pressed his hands on it and steadied his legs. Shoulders up, feet spread. As if he was just about to stretch his muscles in preparation for training. If only. Connor took a deep breath and tried to see what Hank wanted his input on, if he'd been telling the truth. It was a map of the kingdom. All the surrounding land and villages.

"I need to send word of the change in command to my new kingdom, my little prince. What would be the most efficient routes to spread this glorious news?" Hank was running his hands along Connor's body as he spoke.

Connor opened his mouth to answer but a garbled moan came out instead as Hank slipped right back inside of Connor's hole and started fucking at a steady pace, much to the amusement of his men. Connor moaned relentlessly, tensing, pushing back on the thrusts, nothing on his mind but their copulation.

"The map, boy." Hank growled.

The prince nodded, blinking his eyes, commanding them to focus as his rim became sloppy and his prostate was battered. He started pointing at the nearest villages to start, choking out his every sentence. He had to prove himself worthy of being spared. Focus. It was hard to remember the names of the villages, he could scarcely remember his own name, but he tried.

Hank praised the prince for his efforts, and pressed his head down on the table, shoving his shoulders down and raising his hips. This angle felt amazing, he could hear Connor's heels lifting off the floor and tapping back down with his thrusts.

What a good little virgin Prince this boy was. He hadn't stopped being hard for Hank since Hank threw his knife away. He'd been so obedient for his new king. Hank wrapped a hand around the young man's cock as a reward, and was surprised at how small the prick in his hand felt.

"It's probably a good thing you won't be taking a bride. I don't think you could sire any heirs with this small thing." Hank raised his voice so the whole of the hall could hear about the disappointment in the crown prince's trousers.

Connor bawlked at Hank's words. But couldn't focus, he was so sensitive and well fucked to do anything but moan.

"You see, boy. This is the kind of cock that should be getting the royal treatment. You've been wanting it since I laid eyes on you."

He was right, Connor didn't want to want Hank but he did. And his cock was getting the royal treatment, shoved in a royal ass. That fat, long, sturdy cock, accompanied by heavy round balls full of Hank's load. Connor whimpered to think that he'd have that thick load inside him soon as well.

"So I think it's a good thing you won't be breeding, as pretty a prince as you are, you're just not cut out for it. Unless I bred you."

It was almost an afterthought, but Connor whined high in his throat. How did this bastard know?

"You like that idea, your highness? Having your ass bred? God, I'd fucking breed you if I could. Make you have my bastards. You'd know your place." Hank was panting now, the idea clearly aroused him like it aroused Connor.

Connor pressed back into the thrusts of Hank's hips, both of them actively fucking Hank's cock into Connor's slick aching hole now. Hank had put his hands back on Connor's hips at some point. It didn't matter, Connor was going to come. And he forgot again. That he was being coarced into this. That Hank held his life in his hands. That he was being watched by close to ten men, every single cock being masturbated to the sight of the crown Prince taking an invader's fat dick in his ass. That he was the Prince at all. All he could think about was the pleasure building in his belly, how full he was, his little cock twitching and his round balls drawn up. Yes. Please. Please.

Hank pulled out and left Connor empty, dragged him by the hair and put him on his hands and knees. Connor cried out in pain. The pain from being manhandled and his likely now bruised knees. The pain in his hips from being fucked and the pain of not being allowed to orgasm. He was so close.

"You're gonna have me finish this too fast, boy. I believe we promised Reed he'd get his cock sucked. Gavin! Here, your turn." Hank panted and called the other man over.

"Thought you'd forgotten about me, Anderson." Gavin said, grinning wickedly.

"Take his mouth. Think he deserves to finish." Hank took his place behind Connor, kneeling over his calves after pushing them together to make the hole tighter.

Gavin kneeled in front of Connor's drooling mouth. Connor still felt worlds away and didn't struggle one bit against Gavin slipping in his mouth. Instead exploring the salty cock with his tongue and suckling sweetly, plump lips wrapped around the head, big brown eyes falling shut.

Hank pushed his aching cock back in that loose, puffy hole and started fucking right away. His thrusts interrupted the oral sex the prince was giving Gavin, but started the bobbing of his head in time with the thrusts.

Hank was grabbing his hips and his little cock, Gavin had a grip on his messy brown hair and his jaw. Connor was just a toy, just two wet holes and and a needy prick for encouragement to make those adorable noises. Connor could barely breath around Gavin in his mouth, but the choking made his balls ache, made his cock ache. God it was twitching again. Please, Please. It hurts.

Gavin came hot and salty down his throat with a groan and Hank rubbed his sweet spot just right- Connor came. Ejaculate dripped out of his mouth when Gavin pulled out as Connor screamed and bayed. His voice climbing and dropping octaves, rough and sore as his hole clenched and squeezed around Hank, making him swear and spill as his cock was suddenly being grabbed in a vice grip. Connor couldn't keep on his hands, weak from the assault on his senses, and his chest and face hit the floor, ass tilted up and leaking seed when Hank pulled out.

All three men groaned in pleasure, but only two got up, repositioned and adjusted their pants once they'd caught their breath. The bleachy smell had filled the room, close to ten men all spilling their seed on their hands or on the floor.

All Prince Connor could do was lay on the floor and shiver. Pray that his master would take care of him. He couldn't do it himself. He was too tired, too sore, shaking like a leaf, naked as a babe, wet as a bitch in heat.

A cloak was wrapped around his naked form, and he was lifted by strong arms. Connor dozed. It wasn't his place to give orders anymore. He didn't have to worry.

He was placed in a royal chamber, but it wasn't his familiar room. He was placed on a bed and heard a deep voice order a servant to clean him. His legs were spread and his sensative cock and sore hole were wiped clean, as was his filthy face. The same deep voice ordered the servant to leave them.

He was wrapped in soft blankets and his shivering stopped. Connor wondered where his nightgown was, but was too tired to dress for bed. He began to drift off to sleep.

Hank hummed with mirth at seeing the cockstupid prince cleaned and put to bed like a child. Hank tucked him in, kissing his brow with the slightest bit of affection.

Hank left the Prince in the king's bedchamber. He would see to his security detail at a later date. He had a regime to create as this land's new king.

Hank locked the door as he left Connor to his slumber.

"Sleep well, my little prince."


	2. A Prince's Duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Connor now serves as King Anderson's personal whore, Hank definitely shares upon request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied about not having more of this.  
> This is just another round of FUCK Connor's boundaries.  
> I sorta just picked Chloe for this because I couldn't think of a better girl to mess with Connor, even added in the tidbit of she was raised by Amanda which is why she's cold blooded as hell instead of her normal sweet self. 
> 
> Most of the same dark themes from chapter one apply, Connor is coarced into sex acts he otherwise wouldn't have participated in because someone's dangling his life, and status this time, over his head.  
> But he's a gay man being forced to have sex with a woman because she wants to get pregnant by him. He can't perform because of how much he hates it so a man, a AP700, has to penetrate him to get him to orgasm.
> 
> Pretty traumatizing stuff, also Stockholm syndrome with Hank looking very caring and loving even though he's the reason Connor is in this mess, he's doing it on Hank's orders and he doesn't want to fail.

Chloe, the duchess of Cyburn was in the first in line to be Prince Connor's bride. She had been adopted into her position when Amanda Stern couldn't have children of her own. Amanda had adopted the nobel child to raise into royalty.

Her family thought it was of the utmost importance that she be wed well, and purify her bloodline by marriage. Having royal children was the obvious solution. But she'd felt rather cheated by Connor getting snatched up by a king. She wished to make a deal. Her plan for her family could still be put into motion.

"I wish to have his children, King Henry. He is of royal blood, he has an astounding pedigree and I'd been chasing his hand for years as he denied his duty to marry." 

"An interesting proposal, I've questioned his ability to create an heir, myself. He might need a bit of male stimulation, there is a reason he never took a bride after all." 

Connor didn't know why Hank always felt the urge to shame him.

"I will call one of my guard if I must. I don't plan to leave without his seed." Chloe said coldly. Connor got the feeling that she didn't like his master very much.

Connor whimpered. He'd never desired a woman carnally. Hank wouldn't force him to be with a woman right? He'd said it himself, Connor would be useless with a woman in his bed. 

Connor was kneeling at Hank's feet, shrunk in on himself, leaning on his master's leg for comfort. He was only wearing a short sleeves tunic, nothing covering his bottom half if the long shirt rode up. He was covered, for now. But he could be exposed at Hank's slightest whim. Hank was petting his hair like Connor was truly his dog and not just his bitch. 

"You know, in the end I'd thought it was a good thing that he didn't get the chance to marry. As precious as he is, I never felt that he was suited for sireing. I don't know that he's capable of satisfying a lady, but of course you're welcome to him." 

The prince felt unease seep through his body, his master was going to allow this. He chanced a glance at the duchess. 

She didn't seem as amused by Hank's demeanor or the insinuations of Connor's lack of ability to satisfy her, or even meet her demands. Likely due to the fact that her sexual satisfaction was now the subject matter, ignoring that it was Connor who was supposed to feel shame as his meager body was discussed. 

"Thank you. For this most generous gift." She replied shortly. 

Connor wanted to cry.

"You're very welcome. I'll have him delivered to your rooms before sundown." 

Hank turned as soon as he was done making his promise to encourage Connor up onto his lap, very clearly dismissing the duchess who left with her head held high, looking down her nose at the display. 

"Come, boy. I know this'll be difficult for you, but I have faith in you, my little prince." 

Connor settled in Hank's lap, nuzzling his neck while his cock stirred, he couldn't help how he responded to his King. He understood very well who he belonged to. And it wasn't some duchess.

"I thought you had dismissed the idea of my having children." Connor whispered, demurely trying to argue his way out of it.

Hank kissed Connor's soft lips with a smile, knowing full well what he was trying to do. The boy was lucky Hank thought him sweet. Another man would have taken his resistance for insolence. But Hank knew his little prince required a gentle hand to thrive.

"As small as you are, you must be capable, my sweet. It's not your place to make these kinds of descions. I agree to fulfill her request, it's not up to you to decide or your job to know why. You will not fail me, not because there will be consequences, but because you've never failed me before. You're more resilient than you think. I know that you can do this." Hank praised his little darling. 

Connor didn't want to fail. Didn't want to let Hank down. He just had no idea how he was going to complete this task for his King.

...

Later that night the duchess of cyburn was sitting on his meager cock. His master had allowed awful things to be done to his hole but he'd never been so upset to be moaning in pleasure before. She bounced up and down his shaft, stimulating it to orgasm whether Connor liked it or not. 

He had tried to look, to see what was happening. At least his master made him hard without fail. There was nothing unattractive about the woman, her vulva was pink, almost hidden between supple thighs and under soft blond curls. She had a flat stomach, a small waist, a well shaped, ample bosom. She was beautiful. But as Connor watched her take pleasure in his body, her tits bouncing as she rode him, all he wanted was his master. 

She wasn't hurting him, his cock felt good buried in silky, soft folds. Her walls stroked all the sensitive spots on his head, she made him groan every time she squeezed and rubbed her clit against him when she sat heavy on his hips. But he felt more violated by her than by any man who took his pleasure in his ass. 

Connor didn't like how wet and matted his pubic hair was becoming as she leaked slick from her cunt. He didn't like her high pitched moans and pants. He wished she'd be quiet. He didn't like the way her breasts felt against his skin when she leaned down on his chest to change the angle. And of course she sounded like she loved it. He didn't like how she kept pinching his nipples to keep him hard, the way Hank had told her to do. 

She had wanted him to participate, she'd been attracted to him all these years, but it quickly became clear that she would have to provide her own pleasure, as well as stimulate him so he would lay his seed. She'd tried kissing him, he kissed back, like a good boy was supposed to. Kissing wasn't bad, but he couldn't be enthusiastic with Chloe. Couldn't take initiative. It was just so uncomfortable. She didn't like that.

She wanted him to touch her breasts, he barely held them, feeling awkward. He knew what he could do, the kind of touch men gave his chest. Rubbing or pinching, pulling. Biting, licking, kissing, sucking. But he didn't want to be touching her, her breasts too soft and too plush and hairless in his palms. He moved and touched a little, slowly feeling their weight. Chloe didn't appreciate being the object of Connor's discomfort in touching.

As much as he liked Hank's broad chest and his pectoral muscles, he was only allowed to touch his master if he'd served exceptionally well. Connor's body was to be touched, and used, his hands meant to be tied and held down. He hadn't been taught to participate in any other way. Men just took his hole and were satisfied.

She'd definitely assumed he was going to fuck her. Connor had been so unprepared, so uneasy about using his cock to have sex. He could barely stand to touch her, couldn't get his cock to go in. Being used made him so hard against his will but here he was soft. Eventually Chloe understood that Connor was useless. 

They'd meant to mate in the missionary position but Connor just felt so wrong. He was meant to be on his back, legs spread, showing how excited his body was, exposing his clenching and unfurling hole. But instead Chloe was laid out, her tits plump and spread with the gravity of the position. Connor had really no choice but to look at her. If he just focused on her pretty, frowning, face and her long blonde hair spread out on the pillow, he might have thought her pretty. But there was too much skin, not enough muscle, not enough thick, dark hair. 

He looked down at where they were meant to converge, the pink, soft flesh of her lips. So unfamiliar. Such foreign territory. Were other men aroused by this sight? Connor had to keep stroking his dick to try to keep it hard enough to be used. He tried to guide himself in a hole that he couldn't really see, only really succeeding in bumping her sensitive places in a way that made her hum. Connor thought maybe he'd slipped the head in. It was wet, silky, fleshy.

Connor took a deep breath to deal with the wave of revulsion. He wasn't meant for this. Couldn't do it. Was made for men. Connor fell to his hands and knees, still buffeting his meager softness against her warmth. He tried to hump, hoping the grind of flesh would interest his failure of a cock. He couldn't look at Chloe, let his eyes fall on her hair and let his mind drift. Tried to conjure up a fantasy of humping Hank's leg like a dog. It didn't help. 

He didn't want to fail. He didn't want to do this, but he was a good boy for Hank. He'd served Hank's high ranking men, and nobles without complaint or issue. Even if they hurt him. Even if they made him do things he didn't like. He stayed hard and obedient but he couldn't get hard for the duchess, couldn't serve the duchess. Tears welled up in his eyes. He bit his lip, reached down to try and guide his poor little cock again, flinching when he touched Chloe's vulva. Connor sniffed a quiet sob before Chloe started shoving at his shoulders. 

"Get off. On your back, now." She ordered. 

Connor wasn't sure if the wave of emotion he felt was relief or shame. He rolled away from the duchess, and lay on his back beside her, covering his face in his hands. He wanted to give up and be done.

She looked so frustrated with him, and he couldn't blame her. Connor was a failure. Couldn't rule his kingdom. Couldn't even serve like a proper whore.

With a scowl and a sigh, the duchess settled between his thighs, leaned down and 

-Oh!- 

She'd taken his soft cock in hand and sucked the head into her mouth. Started stroking his flesh the best she could while the sensitive head got all the attention her mouth could give it. 

Connor looked at the ceiling. If he could get hard, he wasn't a failure. He thought about Hank, how his favorite place for his master to take him was in his Majesty's chambers. How with every time he was fucked he forgot a little more that his parents used to sleep in that room. It was becoming his safe place where he could dress or be nude as he pleased, where he only had to please one man. Everything in there smelled safe. 

Hank was at his most attractive in their bedchamber. He loved playing with Connor, teasing his body, making Connor feel pleasure so he could squirm and make noises the way the King liked. He'd finger Connor open, stroke his little cock, lick his nipples and shame him for it all until he was open enough to be spread open or bent over and fucked. Make Connor's legs shake as he denied him orgasm. Rub his belly and promise him that Hank's seed would take and Connor wouldn't be able to stop him. 

Connor moaned, a little smile on his lips, his cock felt so nice now, hard and sensitive. That hot mouth providing delicious friction on his shaft, his head held in a warm, wet, tight heat. 

But then it was gone. Connor blinked his eyes open to remember his task as Chloe climbed on top of him and slid her wet cunt down his cock until she was sitting in his lap. 

Connor's chest tightened. She started bouncing, rubbing herself all over Connor. It felt good, but Connor hated it. 

He wished he could just sink into the ground and disappear.

...

Chloe was getting tired, she couldn't keep riding like this. She'd already made herself come once, her muscles had squeezed his cock unpleasantly, and Chloe wasn't amused to realize that he hadn't given her what she wanted. Connor was nothing but uncomfortable and it showed in his face and body language. His face all scrunched up, wincing every time she bounced and rocked the bed with a feminine moan. His hands were pulled as far away from her body as he could without putting them over his head. He didn't want to touch her, he didn't want to be touched.

He wanted his master. His King. He didn't want to spill his seed in this warm hole, he wanted to spill on the floor, or in a larger man's hand. Wanted it battered out of him by using his hole. His cock felt good but he couldn't come without being used by a man. 

Connor whimpered and sniffed, feeling like he might cry. He was too warm, he was all wet and sticky. The sounds of this woman stressed and overwhelmed him. He just wanted it to stop, he wanted to stop existing. He covered his face with his hands and he looked away. 

The weight left his hips. His poor wet cock softened. Connor whined and started crying. He felt like such a failure. He felt so taken advantage of. But he hoped that was it, it was done. That Chloe had given up. She hadn't given up. 

She'd tried it her way. 

"His majesty warned me this might happen." She said, resigned in her anger. 

She went to the door, called one of her guards in. 

Connor felt big, warm hands touch his body. Calloused hands felt up his sides, passed over his nipples, flipped him onto his belly. A man was going to make him come anyways. He didn't really feel much better about it. Oil slicked fingers plunged into his anus. Preparing him quickly. The guard probably didn't even want him like most of the men Connor served for his majesty. He was just going to force the come out of him so Chloe could get what she desired. 

But this was familiar, spreading his legs, the stretch, the fullness with every press into his body. He still didn't want it, but he could accept it. The familiar violation. A man inside his body, ruining his loose ass. 

Connor groaned and sighed almost contentedly when his prostate was brushed and rubbed by the guard's thrusting. It took longer than usual with the discomfort of being watched by the duchess Chloe, but without fail, being used and humiliated made his cock swell again. He started panting along with the guard, rocking his hips back, clenching his ass to make it tighter, more pleasurable for the cock fucking it open. Like a good whore. 

Getting lost in the sex, letting his orgasm start to tingle in his belly, encouraging the man to finish in his tight ass because he was a good boy who took as much cock and come as his master order- 

"Get him in position. I think he's ready now." 

That sweet voice cut through Connor's focus. His eyes snapped open to reveal Chloe's slender fingers playing between her legs. She'd been watching him, keeping herself ready. But when he looked in her eyes she didn't seem pleased. Disgusted with what had become of the Prince who's hand she'd chased for years. 

The capable, intelligent, elegant prince was gone, replaced by this mewling sodomist. He'd had to accept his place to keep his life, that she knew, but knowing that if she'd married him he wouldn't have even been able to perform his duties in bed? His duties as a royal man to keep the bloodlines pure? Chloe wanted to perform her duties fully, why was the Kamski prince so weak? 

Chloe took her place under Connor as her guard lifted the once great prince onto his knees, revealing his small, but now fully hard leaking length. There was anger in her eyes as she watched him quiver in pleasure and fear. She laid with her legs spread and Connor was placed back on his hands and knees, above her. His hips were manipulated down, the cock in his ass hurt as the position became awkward and Connor made an upset squeak as his cock was buried against his will and the guard changed position to push Connor to thrust into Chloe.

Every thrust from the guard rocked Connor's hips down into Chloe's body. He didn't want to do this. It feel so good, fucking and being fucked at the same time. He hated it. He didn't want to do this. He'd be filled, he'd be squeezed. He'd be so sore and open, he'd be so wet and warm. It was so much. It was too much. He didn't want it. It felt so good. 

Connor didn't make it a habit to speak during sex with anyone but Hank, who encouraged him to say dirty things when he was being taken. But Connor couldn't help it here. 

"Nooo.. no." Slipped from his lips as pleasure started it's steady build in his belly. 

Chloe's small, cold fingers ran through his small patch of chest hair absentmindedly. Then wrapped that arm around Connor's shoulders, bringing their chests together while she adjusted her position to push his cock deeper. If it weren't for the cock battering his sweet spot the feeling of her skin on his would have made him soften. 

Connor never hated the duchess of cyburn before. He hated her now. 

"No one cares what you want. You're not the prince anymore. All I want is your bloodline, now come." She sounded almost hurt. 

All the skin touching him, the warmth making him drop sweat, the fullness in his ass, the silky warmth surrounding his cock. He couldn't help it. He was going to come. He couldn't help it. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to. But his legs were spread, some nameless guard was inside him, pressing on his walls, he hadn't even seen his face. But this man was going to force him to come. 

Chloe was shushing his moans, tucked his head into her shoulder, moving him like a doll, petting his hair. Connor heard her panting in time with the movement of the two men on top of her. The guard was grunting in his other ear. It was all so loud, so warm, so wet, Connor was soaked between his legs. 

It was finally enough, Connor spilled, his orgasm weak and achy. The guard groaned in his ear, pulled out and jacked his cock until the warm spend landed on Connor's back. All three of them panted in the wake of two afterglows, Chloe hadn't gotten to enjoy hers earlier, her disappointment in the price had tainted it. 

The guard helped Connor up and off the duchess and Connor finally looked at the man who had to stimulate him to breed. He was thinner than Connor had thought, his features pointed and his expression impassive. Dark hair, a few freckles, blue eyes. He supposed the man was attractive in some of the same ways Connor himself was. He didn't look like he had an opinion on the service he just provided his duchess. Didn't react when Connor started crying quietly when he was placed on his rump on the floor. 

He cried harder when the man dressed and left and he heard Chloe masturbate herself to orgasm again, trying to open up her womb so his seed would take and give her a child. Connor brought his knees up to his face and sobbed after he heard her finish. He was so wet and sticky and uncomfortable. He hated that. 

He hated that Hank made him do this. He never wanted to do it again. He'd been so obedient to Hank and this was how he repayed him for his compliance? Connor had never been mad that Hank fucked him, or whored him out. He'd either felt guilty or afraid, but not angry. He'd been angry about loosing his place in the world, but anger was dangerous in his position. But he was upset now. Pouting in anger and sadness on the floor of a woman's temporary bedchambers, his spend and her slick coating his soft abused cock. 

"You would have made a very poor husband." Chloe said, appearing in her night gown. 

Connor didn't look at her, didn't answer. It was over, he'd served his duty. He wanted to go to bed. Sleep and forget this happened. 

"I've sent for his majesty to collect you. I do believe you're his most prized possession, but I'm not sure why. That was unpleasant, Connor." She had a sweet voice, but it was cold.

Maybe they could have been friends in another life, another time. But in this life she was decisive, determined, and apparently cruel. 

"I'm sorry, your grace." He choked out. 

"Don't bother. I got what I came for." 

They heard heavy footsteps down the hall and Connor whined. It must be his master, he wanted his King. Hank. He wanted Hank.

The door opened and Connor raised his tear soaked face. As angry as he was post orgasm, he felt nothing but relief at seeing his King. 

"Was I correct that he needed assistance or did he perform?" Hank rumbled, stooping down to get a better look at his prince. 

"He required assistance, yes. He's clearly a slave to sodomy. If this wasn't successful I'm not quite sure I'd like to attempt that again." Chloe said disapprovingly.

Connor was glad to hear that, he didn't want to try again either. He'd rather never have his cock touched ever again than have to put it in a woman once more.

"I'm sorry to hear that, I did try to warn you. I pray your endeavor was successful. I think it's time he returns to his rightful owner. Come here, darling." 

Hank looked back down at his boy, opening his arms to his little prince. Connor gratefully flung himself into Hank's chest, clinging as he was lifted.

"I bid you a good night, your grace." Hank said, keeping up appearances. 

"You as well, your majesty." Said Chloe, her expression still dark as master and whore left the chamber to return to their own. 

Connor relaxed into the scent of his master. The anger he felt at being whored out to breed like this, being put in this situation, melted away to the comfort of warm steady arms. Hank was his favorite, the only man he could trust. No matter how many times he ignored and purposefully pushed Connor's boundaries, he always took care of the little prince. 

Sometimes Connor pretended Hank loved him. There was the chance that he did, in a way. Hank was certainly fond of him. He'd imagine that they were in love, and he'd cozy up to Hank's chest even further. 

Connor was still crying quietly when Hank set him down on his bed. 

"Never leave me." Connor choked out. 

This was his one pillar of stability in his life. Serving Hank, serving the King, living in his bed, kneeling in his own throne room, advising Hank on ruling the kingdom that was meant to be his. It was his life now and he had accepted that, but this was all he could accept. Connor needed Hank to keep him forever. 

Hank just pet his hair. Caressed his body. Opened his legs, slid two fingers in to test. Worked a sob out of Connor's chest when his sweet spot was nudged. 

"Hank." Connor begged. 

"Shhh, my little love." Hank cooed.

Connor's sore thighs raised up, his tummy trembled. He moaned for Hank again, fresh tears still falling down his cheeks. 

"Don't fret. I'll claim you again, you'll be all mine. My perfect little prince." 

Connor didn't always understand why Hank spoke so sweetly to him, why he was so affectionate. But it didn't matter. Connor felt safe and cared for when Hank pressed into his body, making him whine. 

The stretch was always so much, even when he was used to it, even when he'd already been fucked open that night. 

No, don't think about it. That's done and over with. He's servicing his master right now. Spread open, and held to a broad chest. 

It was almost as if they were making love. Connor's adoration for his King was clear in his every moan. Hank's affection known in his every kiss. The push and pull of their hips, their sweat soaked bodies against one another making everything okay. 

Connor was erect, and rutting on Hank's belly. Everything was sliding back into place. He was in bed with a man. This man was inside of him. He was touched with large warm hands, a hairy chest and belly rubbed against his slight body. He was with a man. 

Connor didn't know how long they made love for, with his oversensitivity making him cry out and beg, it felt like hours. Hours of Hank inside him until Hank groaned, filled his ass up just right. That warm, full feeling in his hole. Hank's mouth on his neck, Connor came, hard enough to make his limbs go weak, even though barely anything came out. 

Hank caught his breath and carried Connor to the wash room. Cleaned Connor with a wet rag until the boy stopped shaking and crying. Then Connor returned the favor, washing his King, kissing him all over in affection, as was his duty. Dried each other off until Hank carried his weak little prince back to bed.

Maybe it wasn't so hard to imagine that they were in love after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is just even nastier and even darker, I don't know what hit me honestly. I just kind of needed this to exist?  
> Don't hesitate to let me know if I need to tag something else!  
> Construction criticism and sexual suggestions are always welcome.  
> Come hit me up at dirty-droids on Tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I celebrated Connor's birthday, like a weirdo, so let me know if you liked it!   
> Sexual suggestions and constructive criticism always welcome and don't be afraid to say I need to tag something better, the tags plague me


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